


Blue Zenith

by Gowombat83



Series: Cullistair [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 16:06:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20491541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gowombat83/pseuds/Gowombat83
Summary: I don't even know. Just a whole lot of self-indulgent, sappy, soulmate goo.... I just love them, okay!Also in this AU Ali has blue eyes. Just go with it.





	Blue Zenith

He hadn’t wanted to come out tonight but Dorian lured him with the news that Alistair would be at the party. Alistair. He’d dreamed of him, imagined the feel of his hair under his fingertips, the hot weight of his body in his arms. Hours had been spent speculating what he’d taste like; his lips, his skin and… other things. And now, as he rode the illusion of courage gleaned from the light buzz of alcohol in his veins, he was closer to finding out than ever.

Alistair. Eyes bluer than the equinox sky, more clear than a glacial lake, and close, so close. Getting closer. They fluttered closed as he followed the magnetic pull of him that had latched on from the first moment they’d met.

The music and the voices and the raucous laughter dimmed into the background as their lips brushed gently, so so gently for the first time.

Cullen had agonised over his feelings for months since Dorian had first introduced them. Alistair was comfortably out, but Cullen had never been tempted by another male before. Still, every time they crossed paths, the flash of his bright smile and azure eyes, the warmth of his laughter, had lingered on Cullen's heart like an imprint of the sun on his retinas.

At first Dorian had been concerned that it was a mere curiosity, Cullen had never shown interest in other men, it made sense he’d cautioned Cullen off in case he went too far only to balk, and leave wreckage in his wake. In time, though, as the interest only grew, Dorian had come around. Cullen was serious, and once it was clear it was no passing fancy his friend had been a steadfast surrogate, easing Cullen’s way into his truth.

And now, as his tongue took its first sip, as it distinguished the flavours of liquor and mixer, beneath it he finally tasted him. Alistair. And he was _exquisite_.

He was honey, ambrosia, sweet sweet mana in Cullen’s mouth. Alistair tasted like heat, and need, and life. And home. Alistair tasted like home, and it made Cullen beg with his whole being as he dug deeper, as he burrowed in with every intention of staying, that he’d never have to leave. There was no going back now, there was nowhere else he would ever belong the way he belonged with this man. He couldn’t stop now, would never be able to stop, so he dove further in, deepening far beyond the bounds of a first kiss. But it wasn’t just a kiss, it was a prayer. Cullen prayed for Alistair to feel him, to snare the way he’d been hooked. He prayed this wouldn’t be the all of it, but if it were, he was going to pray and he was going to worship.

He poured it all out on his breath, the months of longing and wanting, the nights full of dreams and desires of which Alistair was the centrepiece. He risked it all if only to say that he had, just once, touched heaven, and had made the most of it.

Cullen wanted to remember this kiss for eternity.

They were outside of time and space, they drifted on the currents of existence with only the feel of their gripping, caressing hands to anchor them. When Alistair fell Cullen felt it, he swallowed the delicious sounds that Alistair exhaled, he gathered him closer and held him together as he melted into Cullen’s arms, as he melded himself to Cullen’s body. And he could swear that he felt his heart stop, just for a moment, for one everlasting, brief moment, and shudder in his chest as it recommenced, keeping perfect pace with Alistair’s.

Suddenly he needed air, and for a moment tried to convince himself that he really didn’t. But then Alistair was pulling away and Cullen gasped with him, dragging deep draughts into his starved lungs in a mirror image of Alistair. They stared; brilliant cobalt into molten gold, and Cullen knew only wild, exuberant joy! He could see there, in Alistair’s crystal depths, he could see- Alistair had heard his prayer, and he answered it. And within him, Alistair had made _his _home, his temple, and Cullen his willing disciple.


End file.
